Between Truth and Tenderness

Arielle's POV Thursday, April 18th 2024, would have been the day she died. A year later would have been her death anniversary. But instead, she rolled her suitcase as her slender heels stomped the tiled floor of the JYK Airport, her shades on and her Chanel bag hanging from her arm. Arielle Monroe– The prodigal daughter was back. "Do you need a ride?" the taxi driver in front of the airport yelled as she continued her journey on the sidewalk. She paused and opened the door of a taxi beside her. The sleeping driver immediately woke up and swung into action, helping her place her box in his boot. The journey continued. New York! It felt like the country was already warning her to go back to where she came from. The air carried tensions, one wouldn't believe this used to be her home. "Where are we going to, Ma?" the driver asked, breaking the silence. "The penthouse," I said, not looking at him. "You live there? That place is for the hot shots, but in the last 3 years an incident rocked the foundation of that building." I was tempted to ask what incident. Damn, I was curious. "The building is family-owned. The man had two daughters. The first daughter slept with the fiancé of the second daughter, and it led to a big scandal, one that had the fiancé rejecting the second daughter publicly. "I don't think that's something anyone can survive." "I really hope she's fine, but it's the life of the rich, these things are normal to them," he said and shrugged his shoulders. My chest tightened but I remained silent. "Are you a foreigner? You have a business there?" he asked. I looked at him again. He was an elderly man, his grip tightened on the steering with each word he spoke. "I lived there. I left New York for a while, but I'm back now. I have some business to finish." "That's okay, welcome back." We continued in silence. He eventually parked in front of the penthouse. I looked outside from the window and felt my heart sink to the pit of my stomach. "We're here ma'am." He said and turned to look at me. "Are you okay?" he asked. I knew he had seen the tears. "I'm fine," I said, wiping my eyes. Reaching for my purse, I brought out a wad of cash and gave it to him. "This is too much ma," he said, protesting. I came down from the car and walked to his side of the window. "It's fine, you can keep it, this is my father's building and the second daughter is fine," I said, smiling at him. Realization hit him as he opened his mouth in surprise. I had no time to chat. I rolled my box into the building. Nothing had changed. I have not changed either. I was still ARIELLE MONROE, daughter of MILES MONROE, the second daughter who was betrayed by her sister and fiancé. "I'm sorry Ma, we can't let you in." "What do you mean?" I snapped. "I live here, this is my apartment?" I yelled at the security officer. I had arrived at the reception to take my apartment keys, but she had gone out to call security instead, and they wouldn't let me in. "We got strict orders from the boss not to let you in," the security officer said, looking at his feet. I noticed all the staff before the incident had been changed. "And who is the boss?" I asked. I already knew the answer. "Miss Samantha Ma, she said we'd lose our jobs if we let you in. Please ma'am, this is my only source of income." The receptionist begged. Samantha. It could feel my stomach churn, my eyes began to water. How could Samantha go this far? She had taken him to the company too, and now, she also wanted to take the roof over my head. I pulled my bag and stormed out of the building, the whole time trying to stop myself from crying. I knew I wasn't coming back to an opened arm, neither was I coming back to a standing ovation and a welcome party but this? It was the height of it. LACOSTE BAR The neon sign pulled me from afar, the distance was nothing. I could walk there. Getting drunk was better than the pills I had left on my bed along with the crumpled suicide note. "What do I offer you?" the bartender asked. "Anything strong," I answered. "Anything strong enough to knock me out for hours," I added. He passed me a glass of something brown. The smell almost made me throw up, but I had no time to think. I squeezed my face as the liquid burned its way down my throat. It was exactly what I needed. "Another glass of whatever this is please." I said, sliding the glass to him. "Okay Ma." He said, bending to mix the drink. I felt hot, my eyes were burning with tears. I didn't want to let out, there was a hollow feeling in my stomach. I didn't like it. "Here ma." He said, passing me another glass. I took it and downed everything in one go. "I want to dance, but I need you to watch my bag," I said, my speech slurring. Two steps and I was on the dance floor, my arms swinging in different directions, my hips moving to the rhythm of the song playing. The dance floor was filled with bodies dancing, sweating, people who liked the song and people like me who needed a distraction from how they felt. Everywhere smelled of alcohol, sweat and s****l tension. "Turn it on." I yelled as I kept swinging my hips. Then I felt it, a hand curled expertly around my hips, pulling me closer to a huge body frame. It pumped my adrenaline. I let him hold me. I leaned backwards, pressing my back against him, his grip on my waist tightened, he planted kisses at the nape of my neck. Each movement brought us even closer. I turned to look at the stranger, his body frame towering above me, a stranger, but I didn't care. I couldn't make out his face, but I didn't want to stop. His feet lowered and his lips covered mine. "Can we take this somewhere else?" he asked. I could feel the tension between us. I wanted all of it. These were moving fast. I should have run or maybe stopped him, but my body betrayed me. "Yes," I whispered. He held my hand and led me out of the crowd. I knew this was risky, but I didn't want to think, not now, not today. Immediately he opened the door, his lips covered mine, his hands moving all over my body. I didn't want it to end. The next morning, I woke up with a banging headache. I winced in pain as I tried standing up. He was sleeping next to me, his back facing me. I still hadn't seen his face and he didn't look like someone I would know. There was no point waiting around, I needed to get an apartment immediately. I managed to stand up from the bed, my clothes were littered everywhere, and I was thirsty. I walked to the fridge to get a bottle of water. One look, it was all it took. My eyes widened when I saw the face of the man I had spent the night with – Lucien Marcos. He stirred in his sleep and I felt my world crash. There was no way I had walked into doom with my eyes open.